


Play It Louder

by renquise



Category: JoJo no Kimyouna Bouken | JoJo's Bizarre Adventure
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-29
Updated: 2012-11-29
Packaged: 2017-11-19 21:00:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/577603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renquise/pseuds/renquise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Joestars, live tonight at your local dive bar. Doors at 9. Cover $5. ID required.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Play It Louder

**Author's Note:**

> A quick, gratuitous band AU, possibly first in a series of AUs featuring Josuke and Jolyne hanging out together?

“Okay, if you’re going to stage-dive again, aim for the right side, because that weirdo is there again. But seriously, I’m just going to let you suffer if you break your arm again,” Josuke said, stretching out his wrists and picking up his drumsticks. The crowd felt good tonight, and this was actually a pretty nice joint to be playing (a step up from the usual dive bars, at least), and he really didn't want to have to deal with fixing arms. Or faces, since Jolyne usually wasn't the one that came out for the worse when it came to brawls. 

Jolyne propped a foot up on his kick drum and laughed, slinging her guitar around to pluck out a quick chord. “Ha, yeah, right, you giant softy. ‘Sides, we’ve got another show tomorrow, and you can’t play the guitar for shit, so you’re pretty much stuck with me. What time do we have to leave tonight to make it to the next gig?”

Josuke thought about that one. If Giorno was the one driving, that cut off a few hours, at least. “We should be okay with leaving a few hours after the show, if the van cooperates. Seriously, we need to find a new one. I think it’s on the brink of becoming beyond Crazy D’s powers. And knowing our luck, when it finally gives out, it’ll probably happen in the middle of nowhere.”

Jolyne waved him off. “We’ll make her last, somehow. Giorno! Fucking finally!” Jolyne said as Giorno walked out, picked up his bass and tuned up in a few efficient gestures. (The pitch of the murmurs in the audience shifted up noticeably for a moment, with a few squeals here and there.)

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting,” he said, mild as always.

Josuke rolled his eyes. “If you didn’t spend so long doing your hair—what the hell are you wearing, by the way?”

Giorno blinked innocently, looking as if it were perfectly normal—and even expected—to wear a sequined bodysuit with a chest window. “You’re one to speak. On both counts.” 

At this point, he had to be doing it just to fuck with Josuke, though the guy had a face that made it hard to tell. Still, it did make it hilariously hard for music reviewers to categorize them, though “glam-punk-rockabilly” seemed to be the general consensus. 

“We good to go?” Jolyne said, before Josuke could pull out a really good retort. (He was working on one, honest.)

“Yeah, but seriously, that guy’s in the front row again. He’s kind of starting to weird me out,” Josuke whispered over to Jolyne, leaning over his drums.

“Who?” Jolyne raised her eyebrows.

“The guy! The guy in the mesh shirt!” Josuke hissed. “I can see his nipples from here!”

“Why are you looking at his nipples?” Giorno asked.

“They’re right there,” Josuke said, half-muffled by his face in his hands.

Jolyne hummed thoughtfully, tuning up her A string and strumming out a chord. “Wasn’t he at our last show? Man, he’s dedicated.” 

“Yeah, he was there, with a sign saying ‘MARRY ME JOLYNE I WILL BUY US A HOUSE IN THE COUNTRYSIDE AND WE CAN HAVE BEAUTIFUL CHILDREN. BEAUTIFUL LIKE YOU.’ Again, it’s kind of weirding me out.”

“Maybe we should give him a t-shirt,” Jolyne said. 

“You’ve got a creepy stalker! Shouldn’t we do something about this?” Josuke registered a blur of movement in the dim bar—and a familiar set of super-broad shoulders. Okay, that, he hadn’t expected. 

“Um—okay, wait. I think your dad just punched him out. Ow, that looks like it hurt.”

Jolyne’s head snapped up. “Dad’s here?” 

Josuke really hoped he was right. There was no mistaking a guy that big, really, but he would feel like a huge heel if he was wrong. He ran his fingers over his snare, feeling the tension of the stretched drumskin. Jolyne was squinting out against the stage lights, shading her eyes with one hand. Josuke suddenly got really interested in whether his kick pedal was working properly.

“Yeah, he’s out there,” Jolyne said softly. Josuke could barely hear her over the crowd, and her lips were parted, as if she were holding her breath.

Josuke faltered for a moment. It was strange to see Jolyne like this—Jolyne who regularly got into bar fights, who threw bottles back at heckling assholes in the crowd, who punched through one of Josuke’s drums by climbing up onto his set during a solo, and who was generally tough as shit. 

The lights dropped, and the crowd grew dark, merging into a faceless surge of noise that made the drumskin vibrate under his fingertips, the wave coursing through his arm. Giorno looked over at him, steady as ever, and then over at Jolyne, waiting for her.

“Let’s give him a good show, huh?” Josuke said.

Jolyne closed her eyes. Mr. Jotaro wasn’t the cheering type, Josuke knew that. But he was out there, and Jolyne suddenly seemed electric, brighter and wilder than ever, her fingers curled on her fretboard and her stance wide and grounded, braced against the storm. 

She grinned at him, and then turned towards the crowd. “Fuck, you think we’re going to give them a good show? We’re going to show them exactly what we’re made of. Piss and vinegar and fucking rock, that’s what.”

She thrust her fist in the air, and the lights burst on, hot and heavy as the swell of a riot.


End file.
